Sunday, October 05, 2014

Poetry Sunday

I'll be sixty-three years old in another month or so, and with advancing age comes a different way of looking at the world ...

A Difference of Fifty-Three Years
by Noel Peattie

Here is a magazine called Seventeen.
It comes out on the stands every month.
The girl on each cover is welcome
as cherry pie; she's tubbed, pure,
her hair is up, or ribboned.
Her life is all dresses,
parties, and little pink wishes.
She says to the world, Oh hurry,
hurry up, please, and it does.

Here is a man about seventy.
Why isn't there a journal called Seventy?
Because he isn't as welcome;
because nobody wants to be like him.
He says to the world, Slow down;
my flat feet can't keep up with you.
He whispers, I'm still alive.

But it doesn't slow down, the world.
It keeps on hurrying; for, see there,
an impatient virgin is waiting.

(Every day, an old man is buried).
Every month, there's another young girl.

Getting old is a bit of a pain. But I do have to say that it beats the alternative.

Have a good day. More thoughts tomorrow.



Elvis Wearing a Bra on His Head said...

Yes, the alternative has nothing to offer.

Insane Penguin said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Insane Penguin said...

Nowadays there are few 17 year old virgins.

Linda Kay said...

How about a "40" magazine...then at least there would be ample time left, and some would still by it?

Mike said...

So far I'm beating the alternative. Some of my friends haven't.

eViL pOp TaRt said...

Such a pensive poem. It caused me to look at aging differently.

Grand Crapaud said...

It does beat the alternative.